


the eight loves .

by orphan_account



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: 8 kinds of love, Angst, Fic Collection, Fluff and Smut, Gay Robots, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Multi, PTSD, Past Relationship(s), Platonic Love, Polyamory, Timeline What Timeline, awoken are actual aliens and not just blue humans, best friends who kill people, cayde 6 and his hunters are a big family, morgan is a wreck, nsfw content later on, shin and drifter are fucking crazy, wireplay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:34:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22084969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: a fic collection of pairings + friendships in destiny that follows the eight kinds of love as described by the greeks. nsfw chapters marked as such
Relationships: Amanda Holliday/Original Female Character(s), Cayde-6 & Ikora Rey & Zavala, Female Guardian/Shaxx (Destiny), Guardian/Vanguard (Destiny), Osiris/Saint-14 (Destiny), The Drifter/Shin Malphur
Kudos: 26





	the eight loves .

**Author's Note:**

> -takes place between the end of d1 and the red war

Cayde-6 was the last person to make a noise disturbance call.  
He knew how deeply ironic it would be that he asked someone to please quiet down, but the temporary lodging they were staying in had thin walls. Thinner than he liked, and the person above him must have just been hurling boulders on the floor. Normally, he could just turn off the sound receptors through a simple few steps and sleep in total silence, but he had an axe to grind tonight with whoever was upstairs. It was one thing to sparr late at night, that he could handle, but the closer he got, the more he grew concerned. He knew this place; it was Morgan’s, the eccentric warlock he had tasked to help train some Kinderguardians with him. If they were in danger...  
As he approached the door, something slammed against the other side of it, and he jumps, hand already grabbing Ace of Spades. He can faintly hear a grunt, a shove, and the sound of a Solar blast. He grabs the handle to find it is burning hot, and yanked his hand away, metal white hot on his fingers. He hisses, shakes his hand, and hopes he hasn’t burned off the synthetic fingerprints again.   
“Hoo. Ok-aaay. Not going that way. Hey, Morgan?”, he calls out, banging on the door. “You need a hand or are you already de-”  
The door is splintered in front of him, and this time, he grabs Ace quick, clicking the hammer back and aiming down its iron sights as the door gives, and Cayde rolls back, deft and ready. A Wretch’s body comes sailing out the doorway as it is kicked square in the chest by a big snow boot. Cayde watches as an Awoken Hunter storms out of the apartment, and the rolling waves of solar energy nearly knocks him on his shiny metal ass as she angrily grabs the Wretch’s struggling body, hand wrapping around its throat. She cuts off it’s screams with a sickening crunch, its yelps for help carrying off into a low gurgle. She sighs, dropping its body as she turns to look at Cayde, and he is delighted when he recognizes who it is. He would know those big snow boots anywhere.  
“Oh! Chrysanthemum!,” he says, orange lights flashing excitedly as he holsters his hand cannon to walk up to her. “Man, it’s been a long time!” She offers a soft smile and takes him in a one armed hug, one arm going around his back and another to grab his fist between their chest, a quick Hunter’s hug. They clap the other on the shoulder, and Chrys takes a moment to speak.  
“Sorry about that. Morgan did not close the back door and left their datapad out playing music. Drew attention. I can fix the door,” she begins, wiping a spatter of blood on her knuckles onto her pants. Cayde has forgotten how rough her voice is, and it takes a minute to understand her again.   
“All...good. Ikora will probably chew them out for it later.”  
“Naturally. How are you?”  
Cayde-6 sighs. “Ah. Living? We’re just taking a retreat for a little while with some new Hunters, and Morgan wanted to tag along with some of their Warlocks. Newbies. Very cute. There’s one who reminds me of you!”, he says excitedly.  
Chrys laughs, shaking her head. “So, trouble?”  
“He’s a Hunter. We’re always trouble.”  
She grins, nudging him with her elbow, and she is surprised at how warm he is. He’s in his usual get up with some heavier jackets and scarves for the fall, rich blues and oranges, and Chrys feels very underdressed. Her white hair is tucked into a bandanna that holds her hair away, and she’s wearing a standard issue black tank top, with what looks like her flight suit unzipped to her hips, tied around her waist. She suddenly feels anxious again, and tries to shake it off again. Cayde is a friend. She would be fine.  
“I, uh, am not staying. Morgan just forgot their cigarettes,” she says, pulling a pack from her side pocket. Cayde plucks one from the box, rolling it between his thumb and pointer finger.  
“And your running cigarettes to them like a mom dropping off their kids lunch at daycare.”  
Chrys scowls, taking the cigarette back. “Can you even smoke these?”  
“Dunno. Never tried.”  
Chrys snorts, taking one and putting it between her lips and sparking it alight with a snap of her fingers. She takes a drag, makes a face at the taste. Cayde-6 laughs as she coughs into her hand, waving her hand to dismiss the smoke.   
“This is disgusting,” she rasps, handing the lit cigarette to Cayde. He places it between the slits in his face plates, laughing when he feels the smoke float past, into his head. Exo’s didn’t really have lungs, so the smoke merely swirled around his circuitry. Chrys looks at him, smile tugging at the corner of her lips as she takes it back, pinching out the light with her fingers. She tucks it back in the box, watching the smoke curl out of the holes in the sides of his cheeks. He watches as they waft past his eyes, and he could taste it in his mouth, on his tongue. It clings to the air around them, and Cayde does not think it’s a bad smell.  
“Hey. I never really got around to asking, but why don’t you stick around? Seems like every big fight you just kinda fuck off for a decade,” he suddenly blurts out, breaking the silence as he leans against the side of the apartment. He expects Chrys to just get up and throw herself off the side of the little block, like she did back at the Tower when people annoyed her, and he halfway wants it to be that way; at least it will be something he knows. It has been a _long_ time since they’ve seen each other, but that camaraderie had never left. He always would remember her fondly, no matter the distance.   
“Uh, well. Kinda felt weird after Crota. That’s the short version,” she says, with a sigh, and Cayde is sullen when he hears her tone drop. There’s more he doesn’t know.  
“C’mon, Hunter. Don’t hold out on me,” Cayde tells her, voice uncharacteristically soft.   
It was rare that Chrys remembers Cayde is her Vanguard, and not just her war buddy. It sobers her a little, remembering all what they have done together, how he helped her become the legend she is known for. Without Cayde-6, there is no Songbird. So Chrysanthemum composes herself, takes a breath, and looks at her Vanguard, wiping her eyes a bit. The two of them aren’t big on words, and there is an unspoken agreement between them, that whatever the other will say tonight, will not leave the four walls of the apartment.   
“Want to come inside, Cayde-6?”

The pattern in his LED eyes click and rotate when he blinks, and Chrys can hear his smile in his voice.    
“Yeah. C’mon, Hunter. I’ve got a while.”   



End file.
